


Detention with Mr. Hale

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Come Eating, Confident Stiles Stilinski, Detention, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, First Time, M/M, Manhandling, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Teacher Derek Hale, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 06:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15113861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: For weeks, one of the students in Derek Hale's class has been coming onto him. Stiles is an attractive kid, but Derek never responds to his advances because it would be highly inappropriate. But then he has to give Stiles detention.





	Detention with Mr. Hale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Videll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Videll/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Detention with Mr. Hale (Traducción)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817668) by [lbp98l](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbp98l/pseuds/lbp98l)



> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written...

Derek Hale loves his job. He has always had an affinity for the English language and now, at twenty-seven years old and with his teaching license, he loves being able to impart that love onto the next generation at Beacon Hills High, the same high school he attended nearly ten years ago now. There are of course those new students at the beginning of every year who seem to live to cause trouble, but one stern glare from Derek is enough to make them behave.

All except for one: Stiles Stilinski, the thorn in Derek's side.

Stiles had seemed like such a sweet kid at first. Sixteen years old, he was scrawny and loud but Derek could tell he had a good heart and cared deeply about his friends, even about people who didn't give him the time of day. Derek admired it and made the mistake of showing a special interest in the boy when he noticed he was gifted, second only to literal genius Lydia Martin. He never could have foreseen that a consequence of his interest would be for Stiles to begin overtly flirting with him at every opportunity, his voice just quiet enough to stop his peers from hearing him too.

There have been many occasions, each one getting progressively worse:

"Your tie today really brings out your eyes, Mr. Hale," Stiles said one Monday, a salacious smile on his face.

"I like how you've done your hair today. Very suave," he said another time, even though Derek had done nothing different to it.

"I think that suit's my favourite," he smirked one memorable Friday, his gaze flicking down to ogle Derek's ass.

And several times now, Stiles has locked eyes with Derek and sucked the end of his pen into his mouth like a lollipop, all while waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Derek had immediately looked away each time, his face aflame, and he was ashamed the last time when the crotch of his black trousers had felt tighter than usual. That was the first instance in which his resolve began to crack and he admitted to himself that, despite none of his peers being interested, Stiles is incredibly attractive. Derek was lucky he was sat behind his desk so that none of his students could see his body's reaction, but from how Stiles had grinned at him as he exited the classroom after the next bell, Derek got the impression that the boy had known how he was beginning to get to him anyway.

It was beyond inappropriate, and Derek knew he had to put a stop to it before he gave into the voice in the back of his mind telling him to _take_.

Now, Derek stands in the hall and doesn't want to go inside his classroom. Stiles is in his class this period, which means another hour with the boy staring at him and making lewd remarks whenever he thinks he can get away with them. After taking a deep breath, Derek opens the door and greets his class, deliberately avoiding looking in the direction of Stiles' desk as he folds his black suit jacket over the back of his chair and takes attendance.

For half an hour, Derek manages not to look at Stiles, not to engage, just teach. But then, while his back is turned to write on the blackboard, something hits the back of his head.

Whirling around, Derek spots a paper airplane on the floor by his feet. He bends down to pick it up and then raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the twenty-four teenagers in front of him.

"Who threw this?" he demands.

For a few seconds no one responds, but then, when it becomes clear that no one is going to rat him out, Stiles raises his hand. "It was me," the boy says, completely unrepentant. Today, due to the hot weather, he is dressed in a baby-blue button-down with short sleeves and a pair of dark-brown shorts.

Derek clenches his jaw. "I see. Don't do it again."

He gets on with his lesson, hoping that will be the end of it. But then it happens again and his patience runs out.

"Mr. Stilinski!" he barks, so sharply that the entire front row of students startles in their chairs. "Detention after school!"

Stiles acts annoyed, but there is mischief in his eyes as he says, "Yes, Mr. Hale."

Derek is so screwed.

* * *

Derek spends the rest of the day dreading his detention with Stiles. He hopes during the rest of his classes that another student will act out enough for him to have to give them detention as well, but none of them do. He will be alone with Stiles, which seems to him like a recipe for disaster that he doesn't know how he is going to prevent. Or if there even _is_ a way of preventing it.

By the time the final bell rings, Derek watches his students trickle out of his classroom and waits on bated breath for Stiles to show up.

"Yo, Mr. Hale," the teenager grins when he finally does.

"You're late," Derek tells him, checking his watch. "Ten minutes late."

"Am I?"

The tone of Stiles' voice makes it clear that he already knew, possibly that his tardiness was intentional, a way of riling up his teacher.

Derek exhales a long, calming breath and doesn't move from his seat. "Just sit at your desk and get on with some homework or something. And no talking or phones."

Stiles' cheeky grin falters slightly right as Derek looks away from him to grade some papers. He listens as the teenager lopes over to one of the desks, but not the one he usually occupies on the left side, the one in the front row that is furthest away from Derek's desk. No, this time Stiles opts for the desk that is right in front of Derek's larger one, much to the teacher's dismay. He is careful not to let anything show past his uncaring mask, just makes himself concentrate on reading one of his students' terribly written essays. He can already tell that he will be giving them an F, but he reads through to the end just to make sure.

It's as Derek is using his red pen to write the F at the top of the first page that he notices.

All of the buttons on Stiles' shirt are undone and the boy leans casually back in his chair, fanning himself with a folded-up piece of notebook paper.

"Mr. Stilinski, explain yourself!" Derek demands, finding it difficult to keep his eyes off of all that pale skin.

"What? It's hot in here," Stiles answers, his eyes challenging. "Isn't it hot in here? I mean, aren't you uncomfortable in all of that?"

Derek looks down at himself before he can think better of it and frowns because all he is wearing is the crisp white shirt of his suit and his suit trousers. It _is_ warm in the classroom, but not warm enough that he feels like giving his student a show. "No, I'm fine. Button your shirt back up please."

"Why? Does me being this way make you uneasy?"

"Yes!" Derek snaps. He mentally berates himself as soon as the word has left his lips, because he has basically outed himself to Stiles, giving him ammunition.

"Well…doesn't look that way to me. I think you'd be much more comfortable if you lost the shirt," Stiles continues, that same cocky grin back in place. "In fact, why stop there? The pants could go too, surely."

Derek takes another deep breath, but it doesn't work as well this time. "Mr. Stilinski—"

"This is supposed to detention, right?" Stiles interrupts, still fanning himself.

"Yes. It is," Derek grits out, gripping his pen so hard he worries that the plastic will break and his palm will be stained with red ink.

"Well, just working on homework isn't much of a punishment, is it? I mean, I'd be doing it later anyway. Plus, it's easy."

"Be quiet, Mr. Stilinski, and just do it," Derek orders, looking back down at the paper in front of him. He feels proud of himself for resisting, until…

"If you want me to shut up, I can think of something you can do to make me."

Derek keeps staring at the paper on his desk, even when he hears the legs of Stiles' chair scraping across the floor and then his approaching footsteps.

"It's something that'll give both of us what we want. Want a hint, Mr. Hale?"

Expelling a sharp breath through his nose, Derek braves meeting Stiles' eyes and leans back in his chair when he finds him right in front of his desk, palms planted on the wood. His shirt is gone entirely now and the button of his shorts is undone, and God help him, Derek's eyes are drawn to the brown curls he can just see peeking out above the half-undone zipper. Stiles is going commando.

"Mr. Stilinski, you're free to go for today. You can serve detention with another teacher at another time," Derek attempts, his last-ditch effort to get away from Stiles before he gives in and does something that could land him in a whole heap of trouble. He shoves his chair back and starts to collect his things, but Stiles comes around his desk and grabs his wrist before he can so much as gather together the rest of the papers he was supposed to grade while he oversaw Stiles. Something animalistic inside of Derek rears its head, wanting to break free and teach the boy a lesson he will never forget for as long as he lives.

"Nope, I wanna serve it this afternoon," Stiles insists, his grip surprisingly strong.

"Leave it alone!" Derek all but shouts. He can't do this. He _can't_.

Stiles doesn't leave it alone. "No. I want you, Mr. Hale, and I know you want me too. C'mon, no one's around. It'll be our dirty little secret."

Derek really should have left already, because it's too late now. His resolve shatters.

"That does it."

The beast inside busting out of its cage, Derek wrenches his wrist free, spins Stiles around and bends him over the side of his desk, sending papers and the pot of pens and pencils he had on it flying across the floor. Stiles tries to resist, but Derek doesn't let him. He gives him a taste of his own medicine by grabbing both wrists, twisting his arms around and pinning them to the small of his back.

"Don't you fucking move," Derek growls, hard in his trousers. He grinds his erection against Stiles' ass. "Not even an inch."

"O-okay," Stiles stammers, his cocky act disappearing in an instant. Perfect.

Now, Derek still wants to teach the boy a lesson but he doesn't want to actually _hurt_ him, so he says, "If you really want to stop at any point, say 'Camaro'. Otherwise, don't say a word."

Stiles inhales like he is going to say something, disobeying straight away, but he holds himself back.

"Good," Derek says.

Once he is sure that Stiles won't try to move, Derek rips off his tie and winds it around both of the boy's wrists. He grins because this means he now has both hands free to play. "What should I do with you first, hmm?" he asks rhetorically, skating his index finger across the skin above the waistband of Stiles' shorts. "I know. Like you said before, this is detention, a form of punishment for misbehaving in class. Well, I don't think you've been punished yet, so how about we correct that right now?"

Not expecting a response, Derek crouches down to unlace Stiles' white trainers and pulls them and his socks off. With them out of the way, he tugs Stiles' shorts down his hips and legs and then throws them insouciantly in the direction of Stiles' usual desk. When he rises to stand at his full height again, Derek bites back a groan when he is met with the gorgeous sight of Stiles' pale ass cheeks. The skin is mostly smooth, just a few fine hairs running down the crack, and small brown moles dot its expanse. Derek wants to kiss each and every one, playing some sexy version of Connect the Dots, but he doesn't. Not yet. Maybe another time.

"Keep still," Derek warns.

He steps around to the side and presses his left hand between Stiles' shoulder blades, both to make sure he keeps doing as he is told and to provide him with some reassurance. Without waiting any longer, Derek uses his right hand to smack Stiles' left ass cheek hard. The flesh jiggles and Stiles' whole body jolts on top of the desk, a high-pitched squeak escaping his lips.

"You're supposed to be quiet, remember?" Derek tells him. He gives Stiles a few seconds to recover before he administers the rest of his spanking.

He rains his palm down on both of Stiles' cheeks, gradually increasing the force behind each swat until both cheeks are a rosy pink. He doesn't think about anyone possibly overhearing them, even though such an intensive spanking isn't exactly quiet—the sound of each spank splits the otherwise quiet classroom, and despite trying his hardest, Stiles can't quite stop himself from whimpering and sobbing near the end. He squirms futilely against Derek's hold, attempting to get away from the teacher's palm, but Derek is a lot stronger than him, packs a lot more muscle.

By the time Derek believes Stiles will have learned his lesson, at least for a little while, Stiles' cheeks look livid with colour, a memory that Derek will no doubt jerk off to for years to come.

"There, all done," he says softly.

The disciplinarian in him fades when he sees the state of Stiles' face. His eyes are puffy and leak tears and the cheeks of his face are a splotchy red, matching the cheeks of his ass. Derek coos at him, stops holding him down and kneels behind him, pressing light kisses to the enflamed flesh.

Stiles hisses through his teeth but soon relaxes, Derek's kisses soothing him.

"I'm going to untie you now, but stay right where you are. Understood?" Derek asks him. "Speak."

"I-I understand," Stiles croaks, sniffling.

"You understand what?"

The teenager doesn't catch on right away, but when he does, he whispers, "I understand, sir."

"Good boy."

Derek unknots his tie and it joins Stiles' shorts on the floor. The delicate skin of Stiles' wrists looks chafed, so Derek spends a few moments massaging them to soothe the ache that is no doubt there and then returns to his knees in front of the teenager's amazing ass. Mindful of their sensitivity, he cups a cheek in each hand and pulls them apart, revealing Stiles' tight little hole. He blows against it and smirks when the furled muscle clenches reflexively and Stiles squirms again above him.

When Derek licks over his hole, Stiles makes a choked whining sound that goes straight to his cock. He does it again, harder this time, swirling his tongue around Stiles' asshole to slick it up with his saliva. It takes a while, Derek all but making out with the kid's fluttering hole like the sloppiest and dirtiest kiss of his life, but eventually he is able to slip the tip of his tongue inside. It clenches up tight again right away, forcing him back out, but he doesn't mind.

"Taste so good," Derek murmurs against Stiles' hole, the fine brown hairs around it matted down with his spit. It's an incredibly erotic image.

Stiles whimpers above him, missing proper stimulation. "Mr. Hale…"

"What did I say about not speaking unless I gave you permission?" Derek chides. He slithers to his feet again just in time to see the boy wince.

With a sigh, Derek recalls what Stiles had said during his annoyingly effective seduction and reconsiders his initial response. It sounds like a wonderful idea now, just the solution to keep Stiles from getting himself in more trouble.

"Come here."

Derek walks around his desk and pulls his chair out enough for Stiles to kneel in front of him. Once the teenager is in position, looking up at him with a mixture of confusion and lust, Derek unbuckles his belt, slides it out of the belt loops of his trousers and lets it fall to the floor, the metal making a clinking sound. Returning his hands to his crotch, he pops the button and pulls down the zipper, and the way his cock springs up right away lets Stiles know that he had been going commando as well. His washing machine has been on the fritz lately, so he hadn't had any clean underwear that morning.

"Put those cock-sucking lips to good use, boy."

The stunned expression that appears on Stiles' face is equal parts endearing and amusing. Derek understands it, as it isn't the first time his cock has made someone look like that.

"Sir…you're _huge_ ," Stiles says almost reverently, his eyes wide and doe-like.

Derek grins. "I know." He lets this infraction slide.

Tentatively, Stiles reaches up and wraps his hand around the base of his teacher's cock. It's uncut, nine-and-a-half inches long and verging on beer-can thick. It's both a blessing and a curse. Half of the people Derek has slept with in the past have been amazed and very enthusiastic about taking it, but the other half have been terrified and ran away as fast as they could, proclaiming that they didn't want to be torn apart. Luckily for Derek, Stiles appears to fall into the former camp, although maybe the teenager just hasn't thought things through properly. Until he does, Derek will move forward with the intent of sticking every inch of his cock inside Stiles' pretty little asshole, stretching him wide.

"Stop gawking, Stiles, and do as I said," Derek chastises, after the boy just keeps staring.

Stiles blinks and shakes his head a couple of times to clear it. He licks his lips, shuffles closer on his knees and angles Derek's cock to that he can wrap his lips around the head. Derek allows him a short while to get used to the feel and taste of him on his tongue and then he gets impatient. Spreading his legs wider, he threads the fingers of both hands through Stiles' brown hair and pulls him down on his cock, forcing it into his throat. The feeling of Stiles' throat convulsing around him as he gags is exquisite, as are the choking sounds, like music to Derek's ears. When he deems that Stiles has gone without oxygen for long enough, he releases him.

"How'd that taste?" he asks, his eyes gleaming with mirth as Stiles attempts to regain his breath.

"S-sir—" Stiles croaks, his voice hoarse already.

"I'm waiting."

"It was good, sir," Stiles chirps, more thin trails of salty wetness running down his florid cheeks.

Derek stands up, removes his trousers entirely and shoves his cock right back inside the teenager's mouth. He sets a quick pace, his heavy, low-hanging balls smacking against Stiles' chin with each thrust.

"Look so good like this," he says as he fucks Stiles' mouth. "On your knees for me."

Derek tips his head back with a moan, not letting go of his student's head for anything. He could do this all day, coming repeatedly down Stiles' throat, making him swallow every drop of his seed. But he doesn't. Derek keeps fucking Stiles' face for a few minutes, spit sliding down his balls and dripping onto the floor between his feet, and then, right as he feels his orgasm approaching, he stops.

Not giving Stiles a chance to recover this time, Derek picks him up, throws him down on his desk and makes a space for himself between Stiles' legs. Since neither of them have any lube, he spits on his hand and decides that saliva will have to suffice. With his other hand he pushes one of Stiles' legs back so that he can access his ass and then unceremoniously slides one finger inside his little hole, causing the boy to cry out sharply.

Derek immediately gets to work stretching his student to the point where he'll be able to take him without tearing, thrusting his finger in and out and curling it to stroke against Stiles' inner walls. They're silky and warm, and Derek can't wait to feel them around his cock. One finger quickly becomes two, then three, until finally Derek thinks Stiles is ready.

Spitting in his hand again, Derek slicks his cock back up, Stiles' spit having dried somewhat, and lines up the head with Stiles' asshole, which already looks red and abused.

"You ready for me, boy?" Derek asks, just to make sure.

Stiles had thrown his head back over the opposite edge of the desk while he was being prepped, only the underside of his chin visible to Derek. He lifts it at the question, the tendons in his neck standing out. "Yeah…want it…" he says breathlessly, his own cock hard against his flat belly.

"You ever done this before?" Derek checks.

Stiles blushes. "N-no."

A kink he didn't know he had being revealed to him, Derek is immensely pleased to be the one taking Stiles' virginity. He rumbles contentedly, and then, in spite of Stiles' inexperience, he sheathes himself all the way inside the teenager's body with a single thrust. Stiles' ensuing scream is surely loud enough to echo throughout the entire building, but there should be very few people in the school at this time, so Derek doesn't worry too much about it. He can't, not when he is surrounded by such wonderful tight heat, Stiles' no-longer-virginal channel clamped around his big cock.

The most mercy Derek is willing to give Stiles is to wait a minute for him to get used to being filled so deeply. He is honestly impressed. He has never broken in an ass before, but the guys he has fucked have all complained at least a little bit about pain because he is so large and they find it difficult to take him. Stiles, by contrast, doesn't offer so much as a peep after his scream. His head is thrown back over the opposite edge of the desk again, and Derek can just about make out him biting hard into his bottom lip, presumably to keep in his whimpers of pain, but he doesn't complain once.

When he can't make himself wait anymore, Derek slowly draws back, the slide rough because saliva isn't really adequate lubrication for anal sex. He expects Stiles to make a noise then, and he does, but it's a groan of disappointment. Derek cocks his head to the side and marvels at the treasure that had so willingly given himself up to him.

It seems he has discovered the perfect little cock slut.

"Don't worry," Derek murmurs, running one hand down Stiles' front. "I'm not anywhere near done with you yet."

To prove his point, he pushes back in and starts up a moderate pace, just fast enough for Stiles to feel it. The slide gets easier over the next few minutes, the teenager's body acclimating to being filled, relaxing around the intrusion. Derek takes this as his cue to speed things up more, until his heavy balls slap against the top of Stiles' ass cheeks and Stiles has to grip the edge of the desk with both hands to stop himself from being jostled off of it.

Derek curls his left arm around Stiles' right leg and pulls it up so that Stiles' ankle is next to his ear, leaving his left leg to wrap around his hip. With his right hand Derek strokes the boy's dripping cock in time with his thrusts, stopping every once in a while to really rub the glans with his thumb. His previously cheeky student is swiftly reduced to a whining, sobbing mess by his expert ministrations, and Derek feels immense satisfaction at how easy it was to wipe that annoying grin from Stiles' mouth.

When it looks like Stiles is just about to come, Derek releases his no-doubt-aching cock.

"Hey!" the teenager squawks, lifting his head back up and glaring like Derek has just deeply offended him.

"Problem?" Derek smirks.

"I was close!"

Derek raises an eyebrow at him. "I know. That's why I let go."

"God, you're such an asshole…"

"Want me to stop?" Derek does so without waiting for an answer, thrusting all the way inside and staying there, unmoving.

Stiles groans. "What? No!"

"You should remember your manners, then."

A short staring contest ensues, Derek waiting patiently for Stiles to buckle and give in again, all the while desperate to keep going himself. Eventually, Stiles cracks first, as Derek was sure he would. The teenager deflates and mostly goes limp atop the desk, only his arms and hands tensed to maintain his grip on the edge.

"That's better," Derek says, pleased. He resumes fucking him.

Soon, Derek starts to overheat. With how much he is exerting himself now, he feels the heat Stiles had talked about earlier. There is no fan or air conditioning on at this time of day, so he can feel sweat beading on his brow and stains forming on his white shirt at his armpits and the small of his back. To remedy this, Derek keeps fucking Stiles while unbuttoning his shirt. This catches the teenager's attention again, and Derek is arrogantly pleased by the wanting expression on his face as more and more of his hairy body is exposed.

When the last button is undone, Derek tugs off the offending garment and balls it up. He briefly considers throwing it behind him without care for where it lands, but then he thinks of a better use for it. Stiles is still making a lot of noise. While his loud scream when Derek first got inside him hadn't brought anyone sniffing around, there is still a risk with the sounds they are both making, and Derek can't have that now, can he? Not when things have got so good.

He takes the balled-up shirt and shoves as much of it as he can into Stiles' mouth, muffling his moans. When he leans back again, Derek concludes that the teenager looks very good with the makeshift gag in his mouth. Maybe he'll get him a real one the next time they do this, because this won't be the only time. Not if he has anything to say about it. Stiles' ass feels too amazing around his huge cock for this afternoon to be both the beginning and the end of their sexual relationship. The trouble he could get in for having sex with one of his underage students is insurmountable, but Derek loves the sense of danger, the excitement he believes this could bring to his life, which is in all honesty quite dull.

Still sweating but not as much as before, Derek ups the ante even further, fucking Stiles as hard as he possibly can. He chases his own pleasure without a thought for Stiles'. The boy is just a hole for him to fuck, to use to get himself off.

And get himself off he does.

Soon enough, Derek detects a familiar heat building in his lower gut, his balls drawing up as he prepares to paint Stiles' insides with his come. Unlike Stiles' earlier, he doesn't hold this orgasm back.

"Gonna come in you," he grunts, his short nails digging into Stiles' hips.

The boy whimpers deliciously.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you? You want my come in you."

It's muffled by the gag, but Derek still hears Stiles when he cries out, "Y-yes!"

The man takes his shirt out of Stiles' mouth. "Tell me."

Struggling to catch his breath, it takes Stiles a couple of attempts to get out the words, but he does. "I-I want your come in me, sir."

"Where? In your slutty little hole?"

"Yeah…want you to come inside my slutty ass."

That's all Derek needs to hear to push him over the edge. He fucks inside of Stiles' body one last time and then shoots thick ropes of come deep inside his guts. He has quite a lot built up as it has been some time since he last had sex or even jerked off, but when his orgasm finally ends he groans, pulls his softening dick out of Stiles' hole and stumbles backward to all but collapse in his chair.

Before Stiles' legs fall, Derek is blessed with the sight of his thick load seeping out of the his loose, red hole. It's one of the hottest things he has ever seen, and if he hadn't just come it would be enough to have him raring to go all over again.

When he feels like he can move, Derek recalls that he had denied Stiles his own orgasm earlier. He returns to the teenager, who hasn't moved at all since Derek left the heat of his body, and uses Stiles' copious pre-come to slick the way as he jerks him off hard and fast. It's over shockingly quickly, although maybe it isn't actually so shocking—Stiles was a virgin before today, so to Derek it stands to reason that no one else had ever touched the boy's dick before him either. He himself had certainly blown his load humiliatingly quickly his first time, too.

"There you go," Derek murmurs, releasing Stiles' softening cock. He swirls his index finger through the mess on Stiles' torso and brings it up to his mouth to taste. It's salty and bitter, which he expected. He likes it, though, and continues cleaning his new illegal lover up until every drop of Stiles' come is sitting warm in his stomach.

"Get dressed," the teacher orders, beginning to do so himself.

His trousers are first, zipped and buttoned over his crotch without caring that traces of his own come will stain the fabric. His shirt is a complete mess, wrinkled and damp in places with his sweat and Stiles' saliva, but he puts it on anyway because he needs to wear something in order to leave the premises with his dignity intact. When he retrieves his tie from the floor, Derek looks down at it and decides to give Stiles a little souvenir to make sure he won't forget their first encounter anytime soon.

"Here," he says, passing the tie to Stiles.

"Sir?" the boy asks, taking it with no small amount of confusion.

"Think of me when you jerk off later tonight, 'cause I know a horny boy like you will."

The way Stiles flushes red again is all he needs to confirm his suspicions.

"Anyway, I think we can call this detention over," Derek continues, slipping back into his professional teacher mode. "Did you learn your lesson, Mr. Stilinski?"

Stiles nods enthusiastically. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Derek watches Stiles as he exits the room, feeling prideful when he notices the slight limp he has.

* * *

When Derek next has a class with his new boy in it, he enters the classroom with swagger and no trepidation this time. He greets his students and lets his gaze linger on Stiles. The mischief is back in his eyes, and Derek has to turn to face the blackboard before everyone can see the smirk that very quickly curls his lips.

He already knows he'll be giving Stiles detention again today.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to [Videll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Videll/pseuds/Videll) for giving me this prompt. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be, and I also hope that the rest of you enjoyed this small slice of filth, too. I've never done teacher/student before, so this was a fun little exercise for me. It's on the shorter side compared to most of the PWPs in this kinky little series of mine, but I don't think there was much else I could include in this prompt, so I don't regret it. I suppose I could have gone into more detail in some parts, as has been my wont, but the inspiration for that just wasn't there this time around. Maybe in my next PWP. Still, I liked writing this, and again I hope you all liked reading it, too. :)
> 
> In my next PWP, Derek is a size queen who buys a huge dildo that is mistakenly delivered to his cute neighbour.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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